


An Heiress and Her Leper

by ClericalCandlelight



Series: Cleric's Oneshot Collection! [11]
Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Camping, Consensual Sex, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Heir, Masks, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClericalCandlelight/pseuds/ClericalCandlelight
Summary: Based on a request from my tumblr. Heiress x Leper.





	An Heiress and Her Leper

“You’re going to wake them if you keep whimpering like this.”

“A-And yet they manage to let pigmen sneak up on them?” Beatrice shuddered in reply, hands grasping eagerly at the bedroll beneath her, strong gloved hands holding her thighs steady, rear raised in an enticing display for the man above her to claim. Already, she felt his heat pulsating within her, and with every twitch against her inner walls, heated sighs of delight slipped past her lips. The voice behind her chuckled softly, and once again she felt the intense heat push deep into her core.

“You’d be surprised..” The man squeezed her thigh, stifling his own gasps of excitement behind tight-clasped lips; to his benefit, of course, he also had a mask to serve as a buffer.

Looking back at her suitor, Beatrice met the gaze of a bronze mask, two diagonal slits in the metal serving as her only means of looking into his eyes; even then, with their own light being the campfire, meeting his gaze was all but impossible.

“I wish you’d take that thing off for this.” She sighed, grunting gently when his hips kissed her rear, relaxing her head back onto her arms; he filled her almost perfectly, his motions sensitive to her comfort but unafraid to push her limits, a merciful trait for someone his size and someone with her experience.

Honestly, it was a miracle the Hamlet’s sole heiress had even made it this far in these, as her ancestor had so aptly put it, dark arcades of antiquity.

The Leper, however, gave her courage, and something far more potent than whatever strength of spirit that foolish bravery or hardened resolve may grant; hope. The comfort of warmth, and love. Again, he filled her, and again she whispered in soft gratitude to her lord.

“You wouldn’t, trust me.” The Leper quickly assured her, his hips moving faster into the hugging folds of his employer, her arousal glinting off their mutual flesh in the light of the fire. “I’ve been told that before, and-”

“It’s for you.” Beatrice whimpered quietly against the bedroll, hips pressing gently back against his own. “I know you hate that mask..”

The Leper’s thrusts paused for a moment, but not much longer, one of his hands running along her body, Beatrice shivering at the feeling of the fabric on her skin; she got to feel so little of his body because to this damnable affliction, but knowing his touch was one of admiration still brought a heat forth from within her. “Beatrice..” He mumbled behind his mask, voice trailing off into the hollow quiet that so often lay behind that bronze plate.

Slowly, the hand left her skin, lifting away from her line of sight completely. There was the subtle sound of a buckle unclasping, and a moment later, his hand returned.

In its trembling grasp, his mask stared back at her, a soft noise ringing out when it was gently set on the stone floor beside them. A smile spread across Beatrice’s lips, her body shuddering as his thrusts again grew faster.

“Leopold..” She panted out, feeling his length twitch yet again inside of her at hearing his name on her breath. It was a kindness that he’d no doubt been neglected in the years since his contraction; from her understanding, many of those who walked these dungeons were detached from names, as to avoid growing attached to those who might soon perish.

Plague Doctor. Highwayman. Houndmaster. _Leper._

To Beatrice, the last living member of an antiquated line as steeped in its prestige as it was contempt, whom most referred to as the Heiress, he was simply Leopold; _her_ Leopold.

Her whimpers grew only more desperate as his pace within her increased, both of the Leper’s gloved hands holding her carefully against him as their lovemaking grew more eager in the warmth of the campfire. Bringing her up to rest her back against his chest, Beatrice felt a soft kiss on her neck, shivering at the sensation of scarred flesh upon her own; one of the few parts of him not wracked with his condition, and with it, his sole means for showing his love for her.

The soft clapping of flesh followed as his hips beat against hers, the length within her pulsating in contentment against equally blissful walls, Beatrice hardly able to control her volume as she felt her pink flesh quiver and squeeze around him. They hadn’t much longer, and while she lamented the brevity of their union, it was all for the better; the others would no doubt be less than understanding if they were woken by their act.

Holding back her desires to call out in joy, Beatrice could only tremble and whimper fruitlessly against the air, back arching as Leopold’s thrusts into her sent a powerful wave of heat through her body every time his hips met her soft flesh. She could feel it, building inside of her and in Leopold with every heated gasp that escaped them against the cold air; desperation, laying bare their oncoming climax.

Finally, Leopold’s lips again pressed to her warm neck, his manhood twitching wildly within her as her walls began to tremble, her arousal drooling out in abundance as a sensation of relief flowed up her spine – what followed next, she would consider a necessary sacrifice. Rolling her hips with his motions, Leopold’s cock fell out of her dripping folds, a low gasp leaving his lips as she felt him reach his limit, ropes of hot seed splashing on the ground beneath them, joining with her own cum in a small puddle.

Rolling onto her side, Beatrice breathed a heavy sigh, shivering at the feeling of her walls now longing hosting her lover’s warmth; without it, she couldn’t help but feel a little empty. Biting her lip, she allowed her heart to calm, listening until she heard a buckle clasping yet again.

Looking to Leopold, she saw that same bronze mask she’d grown to despise.

The mask that kept her from the man she’d come to love.

“One day..” She assured him, smiling softly as she reached to adjust her clothing, bit by bit obscuring her vulnerable skin from the cold air. “We can come as one..” She smiled.

“And then what would we be?” Leopold mused, pulling up his trousers, glancing to look her in the eye. “An heiress and her leper?”

Beatrice rose to her feet, reaching out with neat, unworked hands to ran her fingertips across the cold metal of his mask, a bittersweet flame behind her eyes, shining brighter than the campfire nearby.

“A family.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story and are looking forward to the next one as much as I am!
> 
> If you're interested in submitting an idea for a future short story, feel free to leave it in the comments or send me an ask on [my tumblr](https://fishwithawordprocessor.tumblr.com/)!


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